The Mixtape

by Cherry, Brittainy

  I narrowed my eyes, baffled by her words. “I’m sorry—are you somehow finding a way to blame me for Sammie being pregnant?”

  “If the shoe fits. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have even known about these kinds of things.”

  I laughed. “You mean parties? Sorry, Mother, I’m pretty sure she would’ve found out about parties with or without me.”

  “Your sins are what led her here. You did this. I bet whatever outfit she wore that night she found in your closet.”

  My jaw slacked opened as shock skyrocketed through my system. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “If she was showing off her body in a provocative way, that would make boys—”

  “What is the matter with you?” I snapped, cutting her off. I couldn’t take any more of listening to Mama’s radical beliefs. Was she victim-shaming? Was she blaming my sister for the horrific act that had happened to her body? That had happened to her soul?

  How dare she.

  “The truth is, Sammie could’ve walked into that house party completely butt naked, and it still wouldn’t have given that animal enough reason to put his hands on her. He raped her, Mama. A disgusting boy took advantage of my sister, and he raped her body. He raped her heart. And somehow you are saying she’s to blame for the acts that happened to her, due to her outfit? Are you insane?”

  “It wasn’t only her outfit. She put herself in that situation by showing up to a party. She made herself prey. If she didn’t—”

  “If she didn’t what? Exist? Would you rather her live in a bubble? Would you rather she wore a potato bag? You are fucking insane and—”

  Slap.

  Mama’s palm flew across my cheek, making me stumble backward. My heart raced in my chest as shock filled me up inside. Even though my mother was cruel, she’d never laid a hand on me. She’d never crossed that line until that very moment.

  “Mama,” I choked out as tears formed in my eyes.

  “Don’t come to my house cussing like you ain’t got no sense. How dare you, Emery. This is a house of God.”

  She was batshit crazy. Delusional to the truths that surrounded her.

  “I hope I never see you again,” I whispered before walking away with my hand still on my stinging cheek. I couldn’t listen to her anymore. Hell, I couldn’t look at her. Besides, Sammie needed me. I didn’t have time to deal with my abusive mother.

  We drove back to California, and the ride was completely silent, because I didn’t have the right words to give to my sister. It was late into the night once we arrived at my dorm, and Sammie refused to eat anything. I skipped dinner too. We were close in that way—when her stomach was in knots, my stomach ached too.

  We lay in the small twin-size bed beside one another, staring at the ceiling and not speaking a word. I reached for my cell phone and headphones and handed one of the earbuds to Sammie as I placed the other in my ear. Without question, I began playing Alex & Oliver’s first album, the one that had gotten me through some of the hardest times in my life. Alex and Oliver Smith’s voices had a way of healing through the headphones. Their words fixed parts of my soul that I hadn’t even known were broken.

  We still weren’t speaking, but tears were rolling down Sammie’s cheeks as her eyes remained closed and the powerful duo soothed her.

  She fell asleep in my arms, but I couldn’t do the same. Not after learning what had happened to my innocent little sister. Sammie’s breaths fell from between her slightly parted lips. I studied the swollen bags sitting beneath her eyes from crying.

  In that moment, I promised myself I’d never abandon her like our parents had done.

  I’d be by her side throughout every storm, no matter what.

  24

  EMERY

  Present Day

  I’d never shared the truth about Reese with anyone, outside of Abigail. My chest felt as if it were on fire as I told Oliver all the history of what went down with Sammie. He listened closely, without any judgment in his eyes.

  When I grew emotional talking about it, when I needed comfort, he gave it to me, wrapping me in his hold. He felt like the safest place I could reside in that very moment.

  “Sammie hasn’t been the same since she left. We talk every now and again, but I know it’s different. She went off to find herself, and I can’t even blame her for that. I’d want to escape too. But I hate it. I hate that when I need her, she closes herself off. Then, like today, she reaches out to me as if nothing’s happened at all. As if I’m just supposed to pretend that everything is dandy when it isn’t. I hate it.”

  “That’s a lot on your shoulders.”

  “I’m okay,” I said with a smile, wiping my face. “Gosh, I did not expect to end up crying so much tonight.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

  “It’s probably all the wine. Speaking of, I should probably get some sleep before I tell you my whole life story.” I stood up from the ground, and Oliver followed after me.

  “I’ll walk you to your bedroom,” he offered.

  I nodded, not wanting to pass up the offer. When we reached the room, I paused and turned his way. “Reese doesn’t know about me not being her biological mother. So, if you can keep everything between us . . .”

  “Your secrets are safe with me, Emery.”

  His words soothed the aching parts of me.

  He slid his hands into his pockets and gave me a slight frown. “Are you okay?”

  I should’ve lied, but that wasn’t something we seemed to do with one another. “No.”

  “Can I hold you again?”

  I sighed and whispered, “Please.”

  His large arms wrapped around my frame, and I relaxed against him, breathing him in. We stayed there for a few minutes. Maybe five. Maybe ten. Long enough for me to gather myself. Long enough for me to fall into loving the idea of being in Oliver’s arms.

  As he held me, his mouth moved to the edge of my ear, and he spoke words that sent chills down my spine. “You’re the greatest mother that she could ever have.”

  That only made me hold him more.

  When we separated, he gave me his broken smile, and I gave him mine.

  “Good night, Em. I hope you sleep well tonight.”

  He turned on his heel and began to walk away as I slightly parted my lips and muttered, “Good night.”

  I awakened as the sunlight beamed into my bedroom, shaking me from my night’s rest. As I opened my eyes, I remembered that I wasn’t in my bed, but the guest room at Oliver’s. I rolled over in the bed, expecting to see Reese still sleeping beside me. When she wasn’t there, I shot up from my bed as anxiety hit me quickly.

  I rushed out of the bedroom, on a mission to find my daughter.

  “Mr. Mith! We need more chocolate chips!” the familiar voice said, giving me a flash of comfort as I headed toward the kitchen. There, standing in front of me, were Oliver and Reese, covered in flour and hovering over a mixing bowl.

  “Hi, Mama!” Reese exclaimed, waving my way as she popped chocolate chips into her mouth instead of the mixing bowl.

  “Good morning.” I smiled, looking around at the spotless kitchen that I was supposed to be cleaning that morning. Well, almost spotless, except for the flour and cracked eggs from their morning cooking ventures. “What are you two up to?”

  “Mr. Mith wanted to make you your favorite breakfast. So we’re making you chocolate chip pancakes!”

  “Oh, how sweet.” I sniffed the air. “Is something burning, though?”

  “Oh shit!” Oliver remarked, rushing over to the oven. He pulled it open as a cloud of smoke filled the space. He tossed on an oven mitt and pulled out the tray of bacon. Crispy, black, burned-to-a-crisp bacon.

  “That’s a quarter for the jar!” Reese replied. “Eww, Mr. Mith, that stinks.”

  He placed the pan on top of the stove and gave me a goofy grin. “Reese said you love bacon, but I doubt you’ll love this.”

  I laughed and walked toward th
em. “Let me help you guys out.”

  “No!” they said in unison, shaking their hands in my direction.

  “Mama! We wanted to make it for you and bring it to you in bed. So go back to bed.”

  “But—”

  “Bed!” Oliver commanded, pointing toward the direction I’d come from.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, tossing my hands up in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not eating that bacon.”

  He picked up a piece and bit into it to make a statement. The way his face cringed as he chewed it made me snicker. “I’ll make some new bacon.”

  I headed back to the bedroom and waited for another twenty minutes or so for the breakfast to come. When it was ready, both chefs entered the room with a tray that had a vase with flowers, a cup of coffee, and a plate with the oddest-looking pancakes I’d ever seen in my life. A bottle of syrup sat next to a bowl of fresh fruit.

  “Here you go, Mama.” Reese helped Oliver hold the tray, and then she placed it on my lap.

  “Oh my! It looks amazing,” I said, beaming. “I’ve never had breakfast in bed.”

  “I picked the flowers outside! And Mr. Mith made you better bacon.”

  “I see that.” I picked up a slice of bacon and bit into it. “Perfection. Perfectly crisp.”

  Oliver patted himself on the back. “Third time’s a charm.”

  “Third time?”

  “We don’t need to go into details,” he joked.

  “Mr. Mith, I’m gonna go eat my pancakes with your parents and tell them about how you burned the bacon,” Reese said, hurrying out of the room. That girl was always rushing off.

  “Breakfast in bed? What did I do to deserve this?”

  “You deserve so much more than that. But fair warning: if you find eggshells in the pancakes, that’s my fault.”

  I laughed. “You should’ve just made me a grilled cheese.”

  “Next time.”

  He moved in closer and sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Sleep helped. Thank you for listening last night. I didn’t know how much I just needed someone to listen to me.”

  “I’m always here to listen to whatever you need to say.” He brushed his thumb against his nose, and I was getting to the point where I was learning when he had thoughts in his head that he wasn’t speaking out loud.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s not my business, but last night you mentioned that your sister had reached out to you, and you didn’t respond. After hearing what you told me, I’m sure it’s due to a lot of trauma. I can’t imagine what she’s been through, and it’s not my place to do that. But, I do know that if I had a chance to speak with my brother again, even if we were at odds, I’d take it. Life is short. Each day isn’t promised. So, if there is a chance to fix what’s broken, don’t pass it up.”

  That sat heavy on my heart as the reality of it all set in. He was right. Each day wasn’t promised, and Sammie had been through a tragic situation. It wasn’t my place to judge her. It was my place to love her—even if it was from a distance.

  After I finished my meal, I thanked Oliver and headed into the bathroom to wash up. To my surprise, I noticed that the mirror wasn’t covered with a sheet. I checked the other rooms, and I noticed that all the coverings had been removed.

  Healing came in waves, and it seemed as if lately Oliver was learning to ride the current. I guessed I would do the same with Sammie and called her while I still had the chance.

  I picked up my cell phone and dialed her number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Sammie. Sorry I missed your call.”

  There was a small sigh on the end of the line, and she sounded emotional as she spoke. “Thanks for calling me back.”

  Later that afternoon, I headed home with a very happy Reese and three of the action figures that were allowed to leave Oliver’s home. When I put her to bed later that night, we did her nightly routine of saying our prayers.

  When we finished, I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Get some sleep.”

  “Okay, Mama.” She placed her hand against my heart and stamped it, and I went ahead and stamped hers back. “Love you,” she yawned.

  “Love you too. Good night.”

  I stood to walk away, and Reese called out to me once more. “Mama?”

  “Yes, Reese?”

  “Mr. Mith is really nice. I like him.”

  “That’s good. I think he likes you too.”

  “Maybe next time he’ll let me swim in his pool again.”

  I smirked. “Maybe. Good night.”

  “Night.” A few seconds later: “Hey, Mama?”

  “Yes, rug rat?”

  “Do you like Mr. Mith, too?”

  I chuckled to myself at the innocence of her voice and the depth of her question. “I sure do.”

  “Good, because I think I’m gonna ask him to be our friend the next time I see him, and maybe he can play with the superheroes with me when I go over there too.”

  “That sounds like a good plan. Now, get some rest, okay?”

  “Okay, Mama.” A brief pause. “Hey, Mama?”

  I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Yes, Reese?”

  “Do you think Mr. Mith is hot?”

  My eyes bugged out of my face. “What?”

  “Kelly asked me to ask you if you thought that, and she said that if you turned red and made a big reaction, that meant yes. So, I guess it’s a yes.”

  There was no question in my mind that I was going to kill Kelly the next time I saw her.

  “Good night, Reese Marie.”

  “Night, Mama.” I took a few steps before I heard, “Hey, Mama?”

  “Yes?”

  “Love you.”

  A happy sigh this time released from me. “Love you too.”

  25

  OLIVER

  Emery and I began sending each other two songs each day. Songs to show how we were feeling early in the morning. Songs that summed up how we felt when nightfall came. I listened to every single one she sent, because it made me feel close to her even when she was far away.

  The more songs we played, the stronger our connection grew.

  Emery: I had to cuss out the camp instructors for allowing some kids to bully Reese today. Song of the day: Last Resort

  Oliver: Is Reese okay?

  Emery: She’s fine. I don’t think she even knows that they are bullying her. I just so happened to walk up when the kids were picking on her for her hair. I told the parents . . . they said it was kids being kids.

  Oliver: Kids learning from their shit parents.

  Emery: Facts. What’s your song of the night?

  Oliver: This City, Sam Fischer. Read some bad comments on the internet. Got to me a little.

  Emery: Stay. Off. The. Internet. Or at least only read the good things.

  I know, I know.

  Oliver: Kelly keeps asking me to ask you a question, but I haven’t talked myself into doing it yet.

  Emery: What’s the question?

  I started typing, then deleted, then typed, and deleted.

  Emery: Don’t do that. Don’t leave me on a cliffhanger. Tell me.

  Oliver: Do you think about me the way I think about you?

  A few seconds passed before she started typing again.

  Emery: Depends. How do you think about me?

  Oliver: Like you’re every single good thing in the world wrapped in one person.

  She started typing, then stopped, then started and stopped.

  Those ellipses were going to be the end of me.

  Emery: I think of you how you think of me.

  The biggest sigh of relief fell from the depths of my spirit.

  Emery: You know what’s weird?

  Oliver: What’s that?

  Emery: I think I start missing you each day before I even leave your side.

  While Emery and I were slowly falling into one another, my breakup with Cam was getting messier and messier due solely to her an
d her dramatics. It turned out that breaking up with one’s crazy, narcissistic ex-girlfriend wasn’t good enough when she was a celebrity and had the ability to trash your name in the tabloids. I figured Cam would grow tired of the interviews, but they seemed to be getting her the exposure she so desperately craved.

  Her favorite new pastime was bashing my image to highlight hers. The rumor mills were getting so out of control that even my team was getting slammed with hate mail, claiming I was an asshole for hurting America’s sweetheart and that they should be ashamed that they worked for me.

  It was at that point when I decided I needed to do something about it. I needed to do an interview. And fuck me, I didn’t want to do an interview.

  “Are you sure this is the only way?” I asked Tyler as I sat in the dressing room of one of the biggest local entertainment channels.

  “The only way, man. I know how hard these are for you, but I want you to know that we’re all in your corner. Okay?” He turned to the clothing designer who’d dressed me that morning. “Also, can we get him out of the dark-gray top? Put him in light blue. It’s more welcoming.” Tyler turned back to me and patted me on the back. “Remember, Oliver. You just gotta tell the truth, all right? Cam and her bullshit lies have nothing on the truth. I’ll be out there cheering you on with Kelly and Emery.”

  “Emery?” I said, surprised. “She’s here?”

  “Said she wouldn’t miss it.” He glanced at his watch. “Switch shirts, and I’ll see you out there in five minutes.”

  He hurried out of the room, and once I was given the shirt to switch into, I was left alone in the room. Me, myself, and my overactive brain. After a quick change, I sat in front of the mirror and looked at myself. Something I was just recently getting used to again, thanks to Emery. Some days it brought me pain; other days there was comfort.

  Abigail had been teaching me that all people had days like that. Days that were up, and days that were down. It was all just part of the human experience.

  I reached into my pocket for my wallet, opened it, and pulled out the other half of the necklace that was paired to mine. Alex’s heartbeats. I’d been carrying them around with me for the past seven months, holding them close to me, wishing that the necklace was still sitting around his neck. Wishing that he was there to do the interview with me.